


A bit of a Respite

by angelsbow



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, a little bit of character study, lysithea be like: gay and sad, spoilers for lysithea's backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsbow/pseuds/angelsbow
Summary: Annette does Lysithea's hair after a busy day, and Lysithea reflects on her life.





	A bit of a Respite

“Ow!”

“Sorry!” Annette roughly brushed through Lysithea’s hair. The corner of her eye saw a leaf fall out of her white hair. “You just have so many tangles.”

Well. That was expected.Today was particularly windy day, and Lysithea spent the whole day outside. Her hair got into her mouth far too many times than she could keep track of in the heat of a battle. 

Lysithea, along with Hilda, Leonie, Mercedes and Annette, ended up spending the whole day routing some thieves. They were originally supposed to buy some extra supplies in the nearby town, but instead some thieves decided to loiter and disrupt their plans. 

Thieves were simply thieves, but she had no inclination as to why they would decide to rob in the open daylight, especially now that the area was no longer abandoned. Logically speaking, the prime time to steal from the Garreg Mach or the neighboring towns would have been before the Alliance decided to make the church its home base. 

Garreg Mach Monastery, along with the towns surrounding the church were now bustling with activity, compared to the quiet stillness the area carried a few months ago. 

It was a wonder really, how the monastery was left unscathed for this long. Five years is a long period of time, yet outside the debris and damage to Garreg Mach Monastery, everything stood still the same as it did five years ago. Her room, that she abandoned five years ago, still contained all of her belongings. Lysithea was aware that thieves have indeed already stolen valuable artifacts from the church, but it was a great shock no one bothered to pilfer the other areas of the monastery. Her own room contained precious porcelain figures of cats and birds, which she wagered could be sold for at least 2000 gold. 

Her eyes glanced over Annette’s room. There were books sprawled all over the cabinets. She wondered if they were the same ones they studied together from five years ago. 

“Are you thinking about something? You’re awfully quiet for someone whose hair is getting detangled,” Annette prodded Lysithea to share her thoughts with another accidental rough brush of her hair. 

“Ow…Remember how Seteth mentioned that valuables from the church have been stolen. I’m wondering why haven’t thieves infiltrated the dorms and stolen our valuables? Everything is in prime condition as we left five years ago.”

“What?” Anntette’s hands stopped brushing Lysithea’s hair. 

“Looking around your room, some of your books look expensive. I—ow,” Annette gave her a quick ‘sorry’, “—recognize the book with the golden binding. Dumas scourge, it detailed all sorts of supposed forbidden black magic in the hands of those granted by a god. It’s a fascinating read.”

“Oh! That book. Actually, that isn’t mine. I borrowed from the library…but then the war happened aaaand…it completely slipped my mind to return it,” Annette admitted to her that she in fact forgot the existence of her books. Not like Lysithea was going to get on her case anyways; they were all adults in a war. While it’s a good book that should not be lost, ending the war was on the higher priority list.

“My point still stands,” she told Annette plainly, and continued to elaborate on her thoughts. “If I were a thief who knew the value of items, I would have swiped it and sold it back into the market.”

“I dunno, if I was a thief I’d check the Holy Mausoleum or the Treasury,” Annette thought out loud. Her fingers carefully picked apart a particular knot stuck in Lysithea’s hair that refused to be soothed out by the comb. 

“But wouldn’t it make more sense to inspect the whole area? If I were to hide some—oow ow— important valuables, it would not be in plain sight. ”

“Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re going to become a thief, Lys?”

“No. I have no desire to switch my training regiment. I’m just thinking that those bandits we routed earlier were fools; so hypothetically I’d make a better thief than them,” Lysithea concluded. Really, if someone was going to inconvenience her they should impress her at least. 

“I’d hope you would never rob me then,” Annette joked. 

There was a moment of silence between the two of them as Annette focused on detangling the knot in Lysithea’s hair. She hummed to herself, and Lysithea listened to the tune. Annette would not sing any of her song intentionally in front of her, but Lysithea noticed that she’s gotten more comfortable about humming melodies around her at least. Maybe it helped Annette focus on tasks.

She never complained though, she enjoyed Annette’s gentle voice filling in the silence between the two of them. It felt comfortable. 

“Okay, I got that nasty knot out of your hair. It should no longer hurt,” Annette brushed her hair, but it still met with resistance and Lysithea whined. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” she gave a strained reply. Her poor head.

Lysthea closed her eyes as Annette continued to brush through her messy white hair. At times she wondered if she should just chop off her hair. It was not a terrible inconvenience, but sometimes her hair truly got in the way. 

Compared to her own fluffy white hair that went all the way to her chest, Annette’s hair cascaded gently onto her shoulders. 

Lysithea prided herself on her crystal clear memory: she remembered during their academy days Annette’s hair was braided, and the ends were twisted in a strange loop that she never understood. Her hairdo seemed to defy gravity— how could hair simply hold itself up without a ribbon, or some sort of adhesive? Logically, anyone would be curious about such mystery. This wasn’t a silly, childish thought..

Lysithea never bothered to ask that question though; but now, five years later, her orange hair was no longer adorned in such a hair style. 

Lysithea couldn’t help but be curious. Annette’s sudden, or at least sudden in the mind of Lysithea who hasn’t seen her for the past five years, hair style change was not an unpleasant sight however. Annette looked more refined, mature. Lysithea practically styled her hair the same way since she was fifteen. 

Lysithea wondered for a second if she had a different hairstyle would she look older? Not that she cared for such trivialities nowadays since she was twenty years old. Compared to five years ago, Lysithea was taken more seriously by her peers by this point in her life; but the thought couldn’t help but cross her mind. 

When she was fifteen, she enrolled into the Officers Academy. Lysithea was the youngest student there. One might say that’s quite an accomplishment- to be enrolled in the Officers Academy at age fifteen. Regardless of whether it was an accomplishment or not, she worked hard to get that position. But many students treated her like a child— like she needed her hand to be held like a baby just because she was a few years younger than everyone else. It was a great cause of irritation for Lysithea back then. 

Would a change of appearance changed people’s attitudes? Lysithea is not interested in carrying out such an experiment, but the thought floated in her head. 

Eventually, there was less yanking (and yelping from Lysithea) and more of a smooth drag between the comb and her white hair. It felt nice to have her hair brushed by someone when it didn’t hurt. She can’t remember the last time she felt a sensation like this. Annette’s hands were warm and a bit sweaty, but that didn’t bother Lysithea. 

“Can I do your hair?” Annette asked. “I’ve detangled your hair so I thought maybe I could style it for you too? Though I guess that’s silly considering it’s evening already...” 

“No it’s fine,” Lysithea told her. They didn’t have anything else to do today considering how late it was getting, so she let Annette do her hair. She didn’t want to leave her room yet. 

Lysithea didn’t particularly care about her appearance, or at least not anymore. She was twenty now...her time was slowly ticking. She was not looking to court anyone, and they were at war—who truly cared about appearances at times like these? 

She remembers the time Hilda tried to give her a makeover and it was a disaster; the smell of makeup that Hilda slathered onto her face made Lysithea dizzy, and the tight pull of whatever hairstyle Hilda attempted made her head ache.

When she was younger, Lysithea rationally thought that perhaps if her appearance was different people would have taken her more seriously. She had a baby face, she was young, and her height never gave her much room to argue. In the eyes of everyone she was just a child asserting herself into the world of grownups—and they weren’t necessarily wrong. Lysithea forced herself to grow up fast. She did not have a typical childhood. She wasn’t allowed to thanks to the experiments done to her as a child. She knew once those black mages discarded her, she didn’t have time to have a childhood. Her body had two artificial crests. Her body was forcefully built for a short life span.

She didn’t have the time to loiter and do what she wanted.

Instead of playing tag with other kids, she spent her time in recluse studying politics at age ten. 

Time was not on her side, but if it was Annette who wasted her time, she didn’t mind indulging a bit. Lysithea enjoyed the drag of Annette’s fingers through her hair. Her fingers worked gently through the left side of her head, tugging and pulling sections into some sort of braid she didn’t know the name of. Annette slowly moved her body around as she braided from left to right, eventually bringing the braid into the front of her face. 

“Ah! I need to tie your hair. But I can’t let go of your hair, or the braid will fall apart.” Annette was now facing Lysithea, holding her hair firmly in her hands. “Could you um. Possibly look through my drawers?” 

Lysithea complied, and they awkwardly waddled with their knees closer to Annette’s desk. “It should be the second drawer,” Annette told her. 

Lysithea opened the drawer. There was nothing of interest in that drawer, but there were a few ribbons piled up. “Which one?”

Annette peeked her head around Lysithea’s body to get a better view of the contents in her drawer. “Red! Wait no blue…umm…actually why don’t you pick! I’m not good at making quick decisive decisions.” 

Red, the color of love…the color of blood…the color of anger. She wondered if someone like her could have the right to love, when she only had six years to live. She pushed the grim thought aside, and picked up the maroon ribbon Annette first suggested. For all the time she’s known Annette, she’s never seen the girl wear red before. ‘It’d look nice’ Lysithea thought for a split second. She handed the ribbon over to Annette. “Here.”

“Thanks!” 

She tied her white hair, giving the ribbon a tight tug before tying it into a ribbon shape. The red stood out greatly on her pale hair.

“Hmmmm.” Annette intently looked at Lysithea. Her hands rummaged through her drawer that was still open. Lysithea watched, not saying a single word. She could feel Annette insert things into her hair. “Ok now I’m done!”

Annette offered a mirror to Lysithea so she could see her handwork. 

Lysithea stared into her reflection. A braid gently fell into her right side, adorned with some flower pins. It was nothing like what Marianne could pull of with her intricate braiding that could make hair disappear somehow, but the simplicity of it was beautiful.

“If you want to see the back of your head, I’ll hold up another mirror.”

She looked back into the reflection of the back of her head. There were more pins in the back of her head, it was like her head was showered with flowers. It almost made Lysithea wish she was wearing a flower crown.

“It’s pretty,” Lysithea finally spoke.

“Awh thank you! I’m glad you like it. Next time I want to try braiding with a ribbon. I think it’d look pretty since you have white hair,” Annette mused out loud. 

Next time…Lysithea didn’t really care about her hair, but she did like spending time with Annette. 

“Since I did your hair, would you like to do mine?” Annette asked her. 

She blanked. Lysithea was never asked to do anyone’s hair before. If anyone in the Golden Deer house wanted their hair done they went to Hilda, or Marianne if you managed to coax her to do it (though it was much easier to ask Marianne for favors nowadays compared to five years ago).

But Annette did her hair, so she thought she could at least try to do something for her too. “Sure,” she replied coolly. 

Lysithea wasn’t as gentle as Annette was on her hair. Annette did not yelp out as much as she did, but Lysithea could tell her body would twitch in surprise every time she dragged the comb through Annette’s hair. But there were no knots in her hair, it was just a little bit disheveled.

Her eyes drifted to the windows of Annette’s room. The sun was setting, and the sky was lit up by an orange glow. It looked like Annette’s hair. What a poetic way to describe someone; was Lorenz rubbing off on her?

“How does my hair feel?” Annette asked her with curiosity. 

Lysithea stopped brushing for a second and picked up the orange strands in her hand. “Soft.” She resumed to brush her hair.

“And what about the smell?”

“Why?” Lysithea didn’t go around sniffing people’s hair. What an odd question.

“Oh, ah Hilda just gave me something to try out for my hair. I was curious if it was working.”

Lysithea thought for a moment what to do with Annette’s hair. She wasn’t exactly good at this department. You could ask what 42 times 13 is and Lysithea could spit out an answer within a minute; or she could quickly fix a formation within a battlefield— but managing one’s hair was not Lysithea’s forte.

She thought about the hairdos she’s seen on Hilda. It was not unusual for her to switch up her hair style once in a while. 

It did not help the fact that Annette’s hair was rather short. She decided to take the top sections of her head and braid it. Except she was not good at braiding. Lysithea frowned at her halted movement, hands filled with hair.

“Is something wrong?” Annette inquired.

“I don’t know how to braid hair,” Lysithea admitted to her. She knew her strengths and weaknesses, but she did not particularly enjoy talking about them when she didn’t seek out aid to get better in those areas.

“Have you never learned how to braid hair as a kid?” Annette wondered. 

Her childhood was sad. She didn’t have a childhood. Her mother has done her hair a couple times, but she never bothered to learn anything about taking care of her hair outside of basic necessities. She didn’t deem that information important. While other girls were dolling up to go to some tea party with their mothers, she was locked inside a room where countless mages did horrific experiments on her. 

“The way I learned how to braid is through dolls. You’d take their hair and just cross it and eventually you get a braid! Or at least, that’s how I learned,” Annette explained to Lysithea. 

Lysithea thought about a moment. Sure, she knows what dolls are. But she doesn’t remember if she has ever touched one. She always rejected toys from her parents, opting to go after books and knowledge instead. The only time she ever touched toys is when she slept with one, which she quickly grew out of once she found the notion of sleeping with toys childish.

Annette turned around, and faced Lysithea now. “It’s ok if you don’t know. I could teach you if you want!” 

If braiding was a part of childhood, she wanted to gain back a part of her childhood. Even if that was childish wish. 

“If you don’t mind,” she told her a little more quietly than she intended to. 

“Oh not that all! Oh this is exciting—usually I’m the one learning from you, but now it’s the other way around.” 

Annette was someone who Lysithea liked a lot. They understood each other well.

It’s like time couldn’t slow down for both of them…except Annette had a future for her. Annette was running because that’s just how she was, Lysithea was running because she had to. She had to seize every opportunity possible for her, for the sake of her parents. 

They both were rivals who pushed for the best in each other, but friends in the same breath. 

“Ok I’ll show you with my hair since I’d really hate to undo your hair.” Annette held up the right side section of her hair. “So you split up your hair into three sections. You cross the right over the middle, and then the left over the right that you pulled over and-” she slowly showed the steps to Lysithea, whose gaze never left Annette’s hands, and soon enough there was a braid. She undid the braid she created and offered Lysithea a go. 

Lysithea tried to braid Annette hair, but her movements were not as graceful like how Annette’s were. Her hands stumbled compared to the relatively easy flow Annette had, but as she crossed each section over slowly with a few interjections from Annette, soon enough there was a braid. Lysithea held the braid in place as she didn’t want to let it go, and have it fall apart. 

She didn’t feel much joy about learning how to braid. But Annette held up a mirror to admire Lysithea’s work “Hey you got it!” And her heart skipped a beat over Annette’s enthusiastic smile. 

“Are you going to braid the rest of my hair?”

“You want me to braid it?” Annette gave her a nod. “Okay.” Lysithea never got to do anyone’s hair as a child, but maybe she got a small piece of her childhood back today. 

Annette happily hummed to Lysithea’s touch. She did not recognize this tune either, but she enjoyed the sound of it while her hands worked through braiding orange hair. 

Her songs were nothing like you would hear in an Opera. Or in a Choir. They were rather ridiculous melodies, and the plot lines followed no basic structure. But that was another charm of Annette. Lysithea wondered if Annette would sing for her someday. 

Once she secured a black ribbon into Annette’s hair, she looked at Annette’s face. Lysithea’s work was nothing like Marianne’s impressive braids, or Hilda’s array of different hair styles, in fact she could see a few flyaways. But she felt proud of the little two braids tied with two black bows. Maybe she had the right to reclaim her childhood, even just a little bit. 

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Lysithea is one of my favorites from three houses!! I love her  
Also me: makes her sad. 
> 
> But well. this fic certainly took a different direction than I intended to originally. Anyways please love lysithea/annette they're a good pair. just maybe don't couple angst with them just like how i did. I hope to write more (happier) femslash for 3h I feel like there isn't enough femslash.


End file.
